


Mission: London

by Mareel



Series: Always [19]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Destroy Ending, Drinking & Talking, Food, Friendship, Home, Injury Recovery, London, M/M, Mass Effect 3: Extended Cut, Mentors, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3697268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once Shepard realizes what he's looking for, he knows he's found it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission: London

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a few months after the Reaper War was won ( _Mass Effect 3_ : Extended Cut, _destroy_ ending). Shepard is recovering after being found barely alive. It is Kaidan's voice.

_________________________________

 

What thoughts do you share when you're sure the end is near?

I don't know what happened between Anderson and Shepard in those final minutes on the Citadel... what words were said, what confidences shared, what torches passed.

But Shepard's on a mission here – to find the London his mentor loved. 

As his endurance returns and he steadily gains strength in his injured leg and hip, our walks have become a daily ritual. It took some time, and guesswork on my part, to figure out what was driving his choice of routes and destinations as we began to range further from the hospital and our apartment. 

He pores over maps on the extranet, always focused on city maps of London before the Reapers, downloading some into his omni-tool after one embarrassing – and exhausting – incident. 

On that day, I knew we'd passed a particular statue at least three times before even Shepard finally had to admit we might be a little lost. He was limping noticeably by then and when we found a park bench where we could rest, he leaned heavily against me, favoring his bad hip. I remember kissing him and reminding him there was no shame in requesting some back-up. He replied that he thought the _Normandy_ was a little far away to call for an evac, but he'd settle for a taxi. 

After that he always had a map and a plan. Of course the maps weren't always helpful since there is so much destruction, and he was never averse to changing the plan on the fly if he caught sight of something interesting. 

He has never been able to say just what he's looking for. But, whatever it is, he doesn't see it in the tattered remnants of iconic landmarks half-buried in battlegrounds, or even in the undamaged relics of history that remain intact. 

But we did find some amazing resilience in the people of this city, so determined to rebuild and reclaim it. I'm reminded of the first hardy sprouts of regrowth I saw once on the charred perimeter of a forest fire back in British Columbia. Small restaurants and shops are popping up here and there, and we've run across some great street art incorporating bits of wreckage or brightening the walls of damaged buildings.

Moving further from the most damaged areas, we roam the neighborhoods. Shepard glimpses some of what he seeks in rows of neat brick houses, in pocket parks where lavender and white lilacs still lure couples to linger, maybe be seduced... And the yeasty aromas permeating the air near a bakery or a brewery are signs that life does go on. 

Today's walk takes us into one of those neighborhoods. We've been here before, but the tiny pub attached to a brewery draws us back. Well, it particularly attracts _me_. The brewpubs in Vancouver were among my favorite old stomping grounds when I had a chance to spend time there with my parents. I wonder if any of them survived.

"I'm glad I could convince you to try this place with me, Shepard. All this walking makes a man thirsty. And hungry too. What are you having?"

He scans the short menu chalked on a battered blackboard. "The curry might be promising."

"Probably a good choice. But best not to ask too closely about the ingredients. Should go well with the beer though."

With lunch ordered, I find myself watching Shepard as he sits across the small table from me. The skin grafts on his face are mostly healed now, still noticeable but the scars are fading. It's warm today, so he has his hoodie pushed back. There had been a time when he wouldn't have done that, not wanting any recognition when out in public – and wanting pity even less. But he seems more comfortable in his own skin these days. And that makes me happy. 

"What are you thinking about?" Shepard probably noticed me studying his face. I reach across the table to rest my hand over his.

"Mostly about you. About how much I like getting to spend time with you without having to share you with the Reapers." I toss the question back to him. "What about you? Are you finding what you've been looking for?"

He turns his hand to clasp mine, but any reply is postponed by the arrival of our lunch. It smells good, and the beer is pretty drinkable, so I'm hopeful about it. "How's it taste?"

Shepard must have been hungry - he dug right in. "Not bad. Spicy."

I laugh, as I taste mine. "They'll sell more beer that way."

He returns to my question midway through the curry, with no preamble. He knows I'll know what he's talking about. "Maybe. Sometimes I can see what might have made Anderson want to come back here to settle down one day. He grew up around here somewhere. Maybe in a neighborhood like this. He had that big place on the Citadel, but I got the feeling that was a professional choice. Something people expected of him."

I drain my glass and wave for another round. The food is pretty spicy. "He had a lot of responsibility. Maybe he just wanted to go home after the war." 

"Yeah. At the end, up there looking down on Earth... he was trying to tell me something. Maybe saying you should take some time to _live_ , make sure you die with no regrets." 

Shepard reaches around the plates and glasses on the table to find my hand again. It's his left hand, the one still healing from that last battle. I stroke his palm gently, knowing he how much it means to him to be able to feel sensation in it. 

He continues, still thinking about that last conversation. "Anderson didn't have enough time for it all. The Reapers took that from him." Squeezing my hand with a surprisingly strong grip, he meets my eyes. "Right then, I just had one overwhelming regret. But I got another chance."

I hope my nod acknowledges everything he doesn't need to say. I want to take him in my arms and tell him I love him and it's okay, but for now I have to settle for returning the squeeze of his hand. "We both did."

I guess that's as much of an answer as I'll ever get about his London mission. Even as he acknowledges that he might have found some of what Anderson fell back in love with, he'll never really know for sure. Maybe because Shepard has never lived on Earth or any other world for long enough to feel the way a place can tug on your heart.

As for me, I think I've been away long enough. After the dishes are cleared away and we're left with half-empty beer glasses, I decide it's time to say so. "When we're done here in London, I want to go to Vancouver. Go home for a while. Will you come with me, Shepard?"

There's not a moment of hesitation from him. "I'd like that. A lot. But there's something you should know." 

Shepard scoots his chair around to the side of the table to get closer to me. His eyes are full of love as he takes my face between his hands before kissing me, oblivious to where we are and how public it is.

"For me, home isn't a place. It's _you_ , Kaidan."

_________________________________

 


End file.
